Hell against the Heart
by Papyrus VanHelsing
Summary: Dean always knew there was something wrong in between Sam and their father. But do Sam, Dean didn't know the half of it, and to both Dean and John, that was a good thing. Dark!fic so be WARNED! It also has remotely-graphic sexual content. Daddy!cest non-con and rape. Mentions of past child abuse, as well as disturbing mental issues. Don't like, DON'T READ!
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) So this is my first fanfic! I'm very excited to have this on this site! Okay, now I'm gonna give you a fair warning, this story contains rape, non-con, and incest. More particularly, daddy!cest. Dark!fic, seriously guys, don't like, don't read!**

Hell against the heart:

Sam was sitting at one of the too-small desks and researching on his laptop. He sat still in the chair given to him and his long legs bent. Although, they were almost tilting the table to him at the tops of his knees from the bend, Sam assumed he'd already become accustom to that. When did his long legs not get in the way? Surely John gave him hell about that to have the flaw burned in his brain. Funny, Sam thought he heard that long legs were an admirable trait. Sam didn't believe much of anything anymore, at least... Not since he turned 14... When it all happened.

Sam clicked on the exit button on whatever window he was currently on and scrolled on the mouse pad to the 'shut down' tab. As he clicked it and closed his laptop, Dean came through the motel room door and slammed it shut behind him.

Sam's eyes flitted to his brother's face. "what's up with you?" he mumbled, his eyesight spotty from staring at a bright screen for more than two hours.

Dean put his hands to his sinuses as if he had a horrible headache. "Dad called." he replied. Dean sighed of exasperation.

Sam lidded his eyes and his heart seemed to clench in his chest. He managed to put on a fairly stationary and dull facial expression when he opened his eyes again. "What'd he want?" Sam asked with a staged tone to his voice, which he hoped was unreadable.

"He thinks he found a case in St. Louis. He called because he said he needs help." Dean looked at his brother with a look that he's been giving Sam for years. He knew his brother never liked John. Always looked at him with slitted eyes and made some hasty remark, just as his father mimicked. He knew there was some kind of friction between those two, but to Sam, Dean didn't know the half of it. And, to both John and Sam_, that was a good thing._

"So, we pack up tonight?" Sam guessed. He was struggling to sustain this act of 'seeming normal for big brother', but it was so difficult. He just reminded himself of Dean. _This is for Dean. This is for Dean_. He repeated that in his head at least a thousand times as they got ready to check out of the musty motel room.

St. Louis was only an hour drive from the place they were, and, as they drove down the first highway, Dean blasted the Metallica cassette tape he kept close to his heart. Sam looked at his brother in irritation, but it was staged. Inside, he was smiling. _This is for Dean. This is for Dean._ With the music as loud as the speakers in the impala could go, they drove to Sam's worst nightmare.

"Sam." Dean tried. "_Sammy_..." he said again in a sing song voice. He put a hand on his brother's arm and shook. "Sam, wake up!"

Sam roused with a jump as he realized it was his brother who had woken him up.

"Damn, Sammy, what's gotten into you, man?" Dean asked after he noticed how he startled his brother.

"Nothing..." he said quietly, adjusting his shoulders in the seat. "Just..." he began. "It's nothing."

"Okay then," Dean gave a quizzical expression but let it pass. "well, we're here."

Sam shut his eyes again, but to Dean it just looked like he might still be waking up. "C'mon, Sammy, let's go." Dean opened the impala door and began walking. Sam followed his example and soon they were at the motel door. They knocked slightly and it took a few seconds for a response.

The door opened and inside stood their father. "Dean." John remarked, meeting his eldest son's eyes. "good to see you." He glanced over at Sam and looked him up and down. "Sam." as Sam expected, John's wasn't very enthusiastic at his greeting. "Come inside, boys."

The two entered the surprisingly large motel room, at least it was large as compared to most they stayed in, and they both looked around. Dean was pleased with the size of the room, there looked to be two doors that possibly connected two completely different spaces, but all it did to Sam was make his stomach sick. He knew the reason the room was so big, with possibly two that connected, and it wasn't for the sheer luxury.

"What have you been up to lately?" John asked, his question obviously directed at Dean.

"Not much of anything." Dean answered. "We thought we may have spotted something but it was a long shot."

John made a gruff sound of acknowledgement. His eyes riveted to his youngest and the glare was icy. Sam shifted uncomfortably. "And Sam, have you been giving your brother a hard time?"

Sam looked up at his father with narrowed eyes. "No, sir" he mumbled, hate and fear boiling up inside him. John returned narrow eyes and glared at Sam.

Dean felt it necessary to break the heat distributed between the two.

"So, Dad," Dean said, "what's more on this case you were talking about?"

The hateful eye contact broke briefly and John responded. "I'm thinking vamp. Six victims so far, all of 'em thrashed in the throat and drained."

"Somethin' worth checkin' out." Dean noted. "I'll go up to the morgue and see for myself."

"Gonna be a lotta trips," John stated bluntly, "the bodies are scattered all over the city."

"Just gimme the addresses. Me 'n Sam'll check out the vics."

John glanced over at Sam. "Your brother looks tired." John noted. "Maybe you should leave 'im. Let 'im sleep."

Dean could agree with that. Not to mention he was glad John took an interest in what's best for Sam for once. "Uh, I guess. Sam, get some sleep here. I'll be back soon."

Sam gulped but he retained normalcy. "K, sounds good." his eyes begged for him. He couldn't argue, Dean would know something was up. And, on top of that, there was no telling how John would approach the situation afterword when they _were_ alone. _This is for Dean. This is for Dean..._

Dean was a little worried about leaving his father with his brother. All that hate stirred quickly. He, of all people, would know. "Okay, but I better not see you two at each other's throats when I get back." Dean joked.

Sam almost laughed bitterly at that, his head flooding with horrible memories of John almost choking him out while he...

"You don't need to worry about us, Dean." John reassured, smiling, knocking Sam's train of thought out of place. "We'll be fine."

Dean smiled to the pair and slowly backed out of the motel room. When he closed the door, John listened for his footsteps, which were slowly fading away to silence. Sam grew more and more afraid as time progressed, worried about what John would do.

His father turned around to face Sam very slowly, his face in a cold expression and his mouth a tight line. Sam knew what he was thinking. Just then, Sam glared and his face formed a snarl. His fear and hate boiled his blood. He was filled with resentment and apprehension, so many emotions that burned in his eyes. Despite Sam being as scared as he was, his face remained the same.

The only thing this did was piss John off. John's face grew horribly fierce and he lifted his arm to backhand his son. Sam fell to the ground with a large exclamation of pain and held his face in his hands. John kicked him in the ribs and Sam grunted forcefully, the wind getting knocked out of him. John bent over and grabbed his son by the hair. He hauled Sam up and threw him into the wall.

"Stay there, boy!" he growled. "You know what I want and I sure as hell am gonna get it. The only thing you're fucking good for."

Sam stayed silent and shut his eyes tight. _The only thing he was good for_. He killed his mother and screwed his family because of his birth and now he was just a fucking _toy_. He created havoc to his father and brother and John decided to keep him around for this use. He was the anti-Christ. He was a devil-spawn and he was the reason the demon murdered John's beloved Mary. The facts destroyed him when he was just 14, the first time his father used him for his 'proper use'. And Sam believed him, too. He believed it all. John beat it into him. Etched it onto his brain. It never left him.

John threatened he would tell Dean one time. Sam knew Dean would never speak to him again. Dean would hate him, might even kill him.

Dean would be _destroyed_.

_This was for Dean_. Sam could protect him from this. He could take it. Take it so Dean wouldn't suffer. It was the only thing that kept him sane. If he knew he needed to protect Dean, he might actually hold on to sanity.

"What are you, Sammy, huh, what are you?!" John demanded, pressing him into the wall.

"I'm a... A mistake. I killed my mom. I ruined your life. And now... I'm your... Pet..." Sam choked out the words, practically reciting them, for he had said them so many times.

"That's right." John agreed. "You disgust me." he spat.

Sam was close to tears. It was always like this. John would Make him admit what he was, then take him against the wall or in a bathroom. It was never a bed. Not even a floor. He hurt him in the largest way possible every chance he got since Sam was just 14. Sam still remembered the first time it happened, and in crucial detail. How could he forget? It was the worst thing that ever happened to him. John took his virginity away in his own bedroom. This was when Dean was gone, just like always. Dean was constantly somewhere else working since he was 17 years old, and even more then when he turned 18.

"I'm sorry, sir." Sam apologized for no good reason at all, but there were too many times John hit him for not saying he was sorry constantly.

After Sam apologized, John lifted up Sam's shirt, admiring the golden tanned skin and small dip of his back. John grabbed Sam's hips and angled them so they were bent back. His nail dragged down Sam's spine and he hissed.

Sam guessed John was trying to move this along, because he shoved him over to a different spot and smacked him to the ground. Sam spun around on his back and regretted it immediately. He was forced to look into the sadistic eyes of his 'father'.

Sam averted his swiftly, not able to keep eye contact with this monster that his brother respected... And loved.

"Get the fuck up!" John screamed. "Face the wall!"

Sam immediately obeyed, never daring to show apprehension. He had to be... Perfect. As perfect as the _anti-Christ _could be.

**(A/N) Alright, so the ending of this chapter may seem a little cut off. Well, that's because it is. I have a huge one-shot of this written down on microsoft word, so I'm just cutting this down to size for chapters. I will continue this scene and where it's going, so next chapter will be quite disturbing. That's a warning. Anyway, thanks for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N) This chapter is gonna be GRAPHIC. This is your warning. Seriously, It disturbed me and I'M THE ONE WHO WROTE IT! Contains incest, rape, non-con, mentions of past child sexual and mental abuse, straight up mental abuse, etcetera... Okay, don't like, DON'T READ.**

John pushed him against the new spot on the wall and went straight to his belt. He unbuckled Sam's belt quickly and slid it out of the belt loops on Sam's pants.

At first, Sam thought he was just trying to get him out of his pants a little more easily, but he knew better than that. Sam realized the full extent of John's action when he started to pull off Sam's shirt.

Sam breathed out heavily after his shirt was on the floor and John was running Sam's own belt across his back. He was trying to scare him. And John thought it was working.

"Any reasons why I shouldn't do this...?" asked John, looking for a bad excuse to not beat the shit out of him.

"No, sir." Sam replied quietly. He felt small with John, even though he was at least a good half foot taller.

"_Why, Sammy?_" John asked.

Sam paused.

John didn't like the hesitation. He drew back the belt and swung it fiercely against his skin. "I asked you why!"

Sam yelped and immediately answered. "B-because I deserve it." he winced at the sting of the lash mark on his back.

John glared, he felt he could have gotten a better answer, but he was going to use it to his advantage. "I agree."

And just like that, John began whipping the boy fiercely. _Lash. Lash. Lash_. Whip after whip. Sam was making constant gasps and yelps as the belt repeatedly stung his back. John could already see the welts forming. He changed his angle and began whipping Sam on his right hip, seeing his body shaking in between blows. He drew back the belt and hit as hard as he could on his hip, forming a real yelp from Sam.

John grinned evilly, enjoying his son's reaction. He grabbed the other end of the belt in the same hand and rubbed it against the welts. Sam hissed loudly, pain seething and his back burning with a nasty sting.

John chuckled. He dropped the belt to his side and relief washed over Sam. That part was over, but that meant the foreplay could be over, and John would force him into the 'main event'.

Sam was right. At that moment, he felt John's hands sneak up to the front of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping swiftly. He grabbed the waistline of Sam's pants and tugged down. Sam gasped at this action even though he had experienced it enough times to get used to it.

After his pants were at his feet, John groped him. He began touching things on his son that no father should ever touch. Before he knew it, John's fingers were inside his... He just wanted to tune this out. He prayed to God that he could just block it all out. He begged the Lord he was told hated him to make him not... _Respond..._

John noticed the tenseness in Sam's shoulders lighten up. That didn't make him happy. He understood Sam was ignoring him, and he could not have that. So, John decided to change the situation.

Sam felt the thick fingers crook and pleasure rocketed through him, then horrible shame. His prayers weren't working. Sam gasped and John felt satisfied with himself.

Sam tried to push back against the fingers but John removed them swiftly. Sam heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper lowering and his stomach twisted. No freaking lube, either!

Sam gasped in surprise as he felt searing pain in a place he would never mention out loud. But the pain was so familiar. As John moved, Sam felt burning. He sped up and the pain was unimaginable.

John's hand traveled to somewhere it didn't belong and Sam felt tears prickle at the edges of his eyes. Adding to his torture, Sam felt himself responding to the unwanted hand. It was the absolute worst part. Whenever John did_... This_, Sam couldn't help himself. What would _Dean_ think of him? He'd probably be disgusted with him; Sam was already disgusted with himself.

John picked up the pace, (could he even do that?) and the tears flowed steadily down Sam's cheeks.

John let his pleasure be let loose vocally and all it did was make Sam feel that much worse about himself.

John's hand on Sam was getting more intense and Sam made the self-loathing mistake of voicing a moan. How could he act like this? This was his _father_! How could he be so disgusting?

As if reading his mind, John yelled at Sam. "You little shit! You like this?" He was more forceful and strived to give more pleasure to Sam, which was the last thing he wanted.

After a little more time and a lot more of Sam's tears, Sam couldn't hold on anymore. He let loose with a suppressed and shameful half-moan half-sob. Shortly, John did as well.

After John recovered from the aftershocks, he threw Sam back onto the ground. Sam exclaimed when he hit the ground and curled into himself, starting to sob quietly. He shook horribly and John kicked him in the side.

"You better get yourself together before your brother gets back. You wouldn't want him to see how much of a _fucking slut_ you are."

Sam knew what John was referring to, and he curled his knees up in attempt to cover the mess.

"I'm leaving. And you better clean the fuck up."

Sam nodded, tears streaming down his face and his eyes shutting tight. He heard John's footsteps fade away and then the door open and slam shut. The loud noise made Sam flinch.

Sam scrambled to the wall as his body ached and stung. He looked with bleary eyes down his body, slowly noting any injuries. There were bruises on his waist, scratch marks, the whip mark on his right hip. Lower and lower his eyes traveled and he saw his mess.

He covered his face with his hands and sobbed loudly. So many tears, a thought crossed his mind that he would drown in them. He wish he would. After a while of crying, he decided to drag himself into one of the showers.

After the painful shower, he had scrubbed himself and tried his best to clean his mess off of both his front and back. When he stepped out of the shower, he tried to avoid looking at his own reflection.

He stopped in front of the mirror, waiting for something he wasn't sure of. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he found his head turning to look at himself in the mirror.

He stood in front of his reflection, a snarl growing as he screamed in agonizing self-hatred. A _shrill _scream. What he did next he regretted. He hit the face that was screaming back at him in the mirror with force and it, sure enough, began to crack. This snapped him back to his senses. He stopped screaming and sobbing and assessed what damage he inflicted on the mirror. He wished he hadn't done that. How stupid could he get? He wiped his eyes and hoped his face wasn't as red and puffy as before.

After he thoroughly examined the cracked mirror, he trudged on to his duffle that contained some clothes. He slowly put on some boxers and a t-shirt. Sleep clothes. After a little while, he found himself in the bed that was the one he would always sleep in. He buried his face in his pillow and drifted into a nightmare sleep.

**(A/N) Okay, don't hate. I seriously think I'm legitamately a sadist... Well, i don't know. I kinda teared up when writing the last few parts so I guess my heart isn't COMPLETELY frozen over... Anyway... New chapter soon! Thanks much for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N) Hey guys, so I've kinda been percrastinating and, thanks to damn writers block, this chapter might seem a little rushed. Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy CHAPTER 3! :D **

When Sam roused in the morning, he could hear whistling. After listening for a short while, he classified it as Dean's favorite song. He lifted his head and slowly turned to the kitchen. As Sam suspected, he saw Dean making breakfast in the small kitchen area. He sat up slowly and winced. Dean didn't notice.

"Rise 'n shine, sleeping beauty." Dean picked on him. Sam smiled slightly, finding it somewhat difficult to follow through with. Based off of the event of last night... _Last night_... Oh_, shit_.

"Where's dad?" Sam asked suddenly, or at least it felt sudden. He didn't think he had made a coherent word since...

"He left to get a new hotel room." Dean said. Sam didn't reply, he was sort of awestruck. " don't ask me why. This room is freggin _nice_." Dean finished.

Sam nodded. He was incredibly thankful to not be around this man he called his father all day today... Sharing a motel room... Sam shuddered internally.

"Want some eggs?" Dean asked, holding up the pan that had chunks of yellow egg scrambled about.

"Sure." Sam answered.

"Well, don't expect a breakfast in bed. Come on, Sammy, quit being so lazy."

Sam stood up from the bed and winced when it jarred his body. This time, Dean noticed.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" He asked, concerned in a way that was so _dean_…

"Nothing. M'fine."

"_Sammy_..." Dean persisted.

Sam sighed. "It's just... Me and dad got into a scrap..." He lied.

"Hell of a scrap." Dean said skeptically. "Did you freggin wrestle or somethin'? What happened, Sam?"

"Dean, couldja just let it go?" Sam bitched. But Dean was serious.

He was worried that his father may have really hurt his brother. That's something he wouldn't tolerate.

"Just tell me what happened, Sam." Dean's voice was firm.

Sam looked Dean in the eyes. "Dean," he started, voice serious and if not a little whiny "Nothing Happened."

Dean didn't believe him, but Sam obviously wasn't going to tell him the truth. So Dean just let it go... For the time being...

Later that night, John came back to his son's motel room, which seemed more like a hotel room, and talked with his boys. Well, Dean, at least. He would have time for Sam later... When Dean wasn't around.

John found some reason to drive Dean out for a good bit of time once the hour had reached late. Dean reluctantly went, seeing as how he thought they got in a fight last night when he wasn't around. Eventually, John convinced him to go to certain bar outside of town to get some information on the case. Of course, that was total bullshit, they didn't know squat, but Dean didn't know John knew that. Therefore, an unsuspecting Dean left and allowed John the opportunity to get sated. It was a delicious compromise.

The same thing happened as it had happened the night before. Except, less fore play, but he was just as, if not _more_, rough with Sam.

Although, the pleasure portion was more drawn out for Sam this time around, and it was much more humiliating.

Every night this ever happens, Sam's always convinced he's cried himself out. But the next time, he's proven wrong. There's an unlimited amount of the same tears that pour down Sam's face after each rape.

It's agony. But, this night, there's something that John tells him that shakes him to the core.

Never once has he said it, nor even implied it.

John crossed the line.

That night, on the night Sam's life would change, John raped him and uttered the words that broke him.

After all the things John told him about killing Mary, ruining their lives, provoking the demon, not once had he said this.

"You know, you're no different than anything we would hunt. You're a monster, Sam. Watch your back, son, or you may just be ganked..."

The things that he was trained to kill his entire life. What his family killed their entire lives. What Dean has killed his entire life.

_"You're a monster, Sam..." _

Sam was beyond the breaking point, yet he cracked even further. He curled into himself, so far if he had gone tighter he would have fused into a ball, and sobbed uncontrollably. His hands glided along his body, which was shaking brutally. When they reached his abdomen, he felt his sticky mess.

Sam just lost it. His entire body racked with sobs and he wished he would just die. Be wiped off the slate and end the suffering. Suddenly, he was wondering why he hadn't just let go of his life back in his adolescence. The only reason he could think of was for the well-being of Dean who didn't think his baby brother had suicidal thoughts or actions. Now it didn't seem to matter much.

He would probably try soon, but for now he would just cry out and pass into unconsciousness, of course paired with nightmares.

Sam didn't think he was strong enough to make it to the shower this time. He just remained on the floor and cried his eyes out.

He was in such despair, he didn't even notice when the door to their room opened, and a figure screamed an unmistakable utter.

_"SAMMY!"_

**(A/N) CLIFFY! Ah, and dramatic, I might add, but, given the situation (and the fact that it IS a drama tv show) i think i'll let myself slide. ALRIGHTY, next chapter should be up soon and thanks much for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N) Wassap...? Yay, new chapter... I've been holdin out a while because this is, so far, my favorite chapter. You can expect a one very PISSED OFF DEAN and some brotherly fluff. No sex in this, so, if I could, I'd rate this teen. Thanks fo' readin'!**

Dean was just walking back to his car from the bar his dad had suggested. They were NO help whatsoever. Hell, they didn't have a clue what he's was talking about. Minds blank and beer bottles full.

"Complete waste of time." Dean muttered under his breathe once he was inside the impala. He sighed and began driving,

He was thinking of how he could prevent his dad hurting Sammy further by getting home sooner, anyway. Something _had_ happened that his brother refused to tell him about.

Dean was almost surprised by the thought of protecting Sam. Sure, he did it all his life, but still. He hasn't thought about protecting Sam from their father since the nights he spent grieving and drunk and Sam was the perfect small punching bag to take anger out on.

John hadn't beaten them regularly. Only on days like their mom's birthday and times when he would get shit-faced drunk. Even so, it was Dean more than Sam, thank god.

Dean thought this over as he walked down the sidewalk to the door of their motel. What could they have fought about for it to end up like that? Something was wrong about the whole thing.

And Dean was right on that note. Something was wrong. _Very _wrong. So wrong that when he opened the door to their room, there laid something he couldn't at all comprehend. There was his brother, shaking like a leaf, whip marks on his back, completely naked. Dean blinked once. Twice. Three times, but it wasn't his imagination. There lay his baby brother, practically mutilated and naked in a puddle of his own...

"SAMMY!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs and raced over to his brother's painful form.

He touched his shoulder and Sam flinched violently. Sam tore his face away from his hand and gasped. _Dean._ He stared at his older brother, then cowered to the wall, mumbling something difficult to hear.

Dean was speechless. He didn't believe his eyes. "Oh my god, Sammy!" He cried. "What-"

"I'm sorry!" Sam sobbed, unable to say anything else. His world just shattered from beneath him. He was now completely, utterly broken.

"What the hell happened?!" Dean exclaimed, making Sam flinch and tears fall down at a fast pace.

"I-I'm sorry..." He sobbed again. "I'm so sorry..."

Dean moved in closer to his baby brother, grabbing his arms to keep them steady and get his attention. "Sammy, _what happened_?" He said calmly, hardly able to keep back his rage.

"I-I killed mom." Sam said, deciding to start with that. "Sh-she died because… My nursery… A-and the demon-"

"Sammy, that was never your fault!" Dean said, confused yet maintaining a firm voice.

"No, you don't understand..." Sam cried. "I ruined everything, and Dad said..."

"_Dad?!_" Dean exclaimed.

"I'm sorry!" Sam acted as though he was punched in the face, forcing himself back against the wall he was against. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Sammy, for what?" Dean cried. He paused and started to let tears fall. "Did... Did someone..." He choked our his next words... "_Rape you?_"

Sam dropped his head and closed his eyes, attempting to cover up his mess that was scattered among his abdomen and groin.

Dean let out a gasped sob and that got Sam's attention. He looked up and saw the tears pouring out of his older brothers eyes. This confused him, but, then again, Dean didn't know the whole story...

"I'm a monster..." Sam mumbled, tears drenching his cheeks. "The demon, he killed mom because a' me, and... I just got what I deserved..."

"NO!" Dean yelled. Sam fell to the ground and shook, terrified.

When he spoke, it came slightly muffled and very shaky, "I understand... Just, you can... Do what you want... Just, don't be like Dad. Please. Don't... be like... him..." Sam said in between gasps and sobs.

Dean's breath caught in his throat. "_Dad!? Dad?! No no no no!_" Dean screamed and whispered and everything in between and then some. "_Dad did this to you_?!" He asked, trying to contain the billions of emotions bubbling up inside him.

Sam stared at Dean in confusion. _'Of course he did.'_ He thought. _'Why wouldn't he? I just got what I deserved.'_ Dean_ still_ didn't understand. After moments of Dean's question left hanging in open air, Sam finally nodded, but it was reluctant. He could have just destroyed his brother by telling him what he did. _That_ was Sam's worst nightmare.

Dean saw red. His fist clenched and he shook with rage. Sam took this the wrong way.

"I understand... Dean, I... Can I just put some clothes on first...? P-please... you can hit me… I understand.. Unless… You… Wanna..." Sam choked as fresh tears sprung from his eyes.

"No, _fuck no_, Sammy..." More tears fell from Dean's eyes. "I wouldn't hurt you if the world depended on it. Sammy, I'm so so _sorry_..." He stared at his broken brother and decided he needed to know, "When did... how did Dad..." He could finish the sentence.

"Dean... You don't understand..." Sam tried, face breaking into the most pained expression Dean had ever seen on his brother, "Mom, and the demon... I..."

"No, Sam!" Dean went toward his brother and gripped his arms. He embraced him and held so tight, almost too tight, and whispered in his ear. "Don't you ever think that was your fault. You were a baby when it happened. You didn't do anything. Don't you ever blame yourself! Dad..." His voice started to break with tears "dad had no right in hell to _ever_ do this to you!"

When Dean grabbed him, Sam wasn't sure what was going on. He was so horribly confused. Then he felt his brother's grip tighten. It was a... _Hug?_

Sam expected everything. _Everything!_ He expected Dean to beat him. Spit on him. Strangle him. Curse his name and leave to never see him again. Kill him. Rape him. He expected everything... Everything but this. Comfort and love was the last thing Sam thought he would receive from his brother after he confessed his biggest secret.

It was the last thing Sam expected, but that didn't mean Sam wouldn't embrace it. Although, he couldn't stop making up scenarios of how this really was in his head, which were reeling and their own accord, he still clutched Dean tightly in response and let himself cry with Dean as a comforter. He knew it was a once in a life time chance. When John told him the truth, Dean would have no sympathy left for him.

"Sammy..." Dean tried, voice sounding so broken, "T-tell me what happened."

Sam clutched Dean tighter and began to sob harder. Sam clutched Dean tighter and began to sob harder. Even with Sam's face submerged in his shoulder and the sobbing and, hell, EVERYTHING ELSE going on that may distract him, Dean could feel the subtle movement of Sam's head shaking a 'no' gesture.

Dean pulled back and looked Sam in the eyes. "Sammy, I need to know." He said, wiping the multitude of tears from Sam's eyes with his thumb. "How did Dad-"

"I can't tell you!" Sam blurted before Dean could finish. "I can't!"

Despite Dean's distress, he understood why Sam would be acting like this. So, in order to make things better, Dean said, "Alright buddy, I understand. I hope you'll tell me soon, though." Dean paused when Sam's eyes averted downcast. "Hey, Sammy?" He said softly.

Sam looked up at him.

"You wanna take a shower, buddy? Then get some rest?"

Sam stared at the love and support in Dean's eyes. It seemed so... _Foreign_... So misplaced... and, frankly, mistaken. It didn't feel right, wasn't right... but Dean didn't seem to know that... Regardless of his thoughts, he nodded. He might as well.

Dean helped Sam get up and lead him to the shower. Almost forgetting Sam was already naked (under current circumstances, it was the last thing on his mind) he hadn't seen the huge purpose of bringing clothes in for Sam. When he made the revelation he left to get some.

After Sam showered, it was a collaborative effort to get him dressed. Surprisingly, the difficulty was mainly Dean's part, as he would wince at the idea of harming his brother's obviously tender and sensitive skin. _Especially_ on his _back_. He felt bile rise up in his throat as he took a better look at Sam's marred back but he tried to let his anger go unnoticed. That would otherwise lead to trouble.

After Sam was dressed, they walked to the bed and Dean laid his brother in bed. When Sam was officially settled, Dean leaned over and kissed his brother on the forehead. "Love you, Sammy," Dean said, in some ways reassured and confirmed.

Dean missed the steady tears that fell down Sam's cheeks after the seemingly impossible show of affection. It was something that Sam was denied would happen for 6 years of his life and he couldn't believe it in the slightest. It almost seemed everything he knew was a lie... But he was probably just kidding himself... Good things didn't come to people like _Sam_...

**(A/N) AWWWWW... nothing better than some protective and loving Dean... expect the nest chapter soon! Thanks a whole lot for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N) Okay, this was a hard chapter to write. And I've been so fed up with school and work and all kinds of other things that I hardly get any freetime. I usually am up writing until 4am on weekdays so this is the best of my ability, due to drowsiness... Anyway, on a better note, I hope you enjoy chapter 5! Thanks for reading, friends! ((oh, and this chapter contains some disturbing mental issues and thoughts. AKA, Sammy is blaming himself and he thinks he deserves it and all that usual stuff. Ya know, the norm. WOW, I'm being smug. I am such a bad person... A complete sadist. And all of my friends are like, "How can you write about this? This is awful..." and I don't have an answer... Besides I'm a sadist. Anyway, I'm rambling, so get on with chapter 5!))**

When Sam woke that morning, everything was still. If he didn't feel so achy, he might have guessed things were normal. But, regrettably, they were far from it.

Once he recalled the events of last night that reeled themselves from beginning to end in his head, Sam was sure he was going to start crying again, but no tears came. Nothing came. No strangle sobs. No quivering lips. Nothing. This was... _Strange_.

Sam slowly turned over in his bed. When he settled on his opposite side, his eyes focused on his sleeping brother who was lying on the bed parallel to him. He smiled at the sight. His smile dwindled as he let himself think about what he would say to Dean. What could he say? Of course, he had to lie, but, when John told him everything, it would all turn out so much worse. And, on top of that, he didn't like the idea of lying to his brother. It made him feel slimy... But, come to think of it, how much slimier could he get? It was all so confusing, so contemplative, nerve-racking... He didn't know how much time he has left to still have a brother. _It couldn't be long._

Sam sat up in his bed. He decided that there was no chance of falling back to sleep, so he just sat in the dark and thought. He thought for a long time. A _long_ time. But he couldn't think of anything to say or do. He's never thought up this scenario in his head. For this situation, he was completely unprepared.

His brother tended to toss and turn in his sleep, so, eventually, he had made it to having his back turned to Sam, still in his own dreamland. When he heard groaning coming from his brother, Sam sunk back into his bed, slowly hiding the fact that he was awake with the disguise of his striving position in the bed. Sam watched as Dean got up and walked groggily to the small kitchen. After little observation, Sam concluded Dean was making coffee.

He stared for a little while as Dean worked the coffee machine and thought longingly that he would never have his love again. But he was prepared. He was prepared to be alone.

As Dean was grabbing a mug, he glanced over at his little brother. To his surprise, Sammy's eyes were open, and staring intently. Dean smiled warmly.

"Morning Sammy." He spoke very softly. Dean crept up to the side of his bed and crouched down next to his baby brother. Sam sat up in his bed and grinned sideways, a little unsure. "Do you want some coffee, Bud?"

"Sure." Sam said hesitantly.

Dean reached back to get a second mug. He filled Sam's mug with coffee first and gave it to his little brother. Sam took it from him and had a small sip. But that was the only time he drank from his cup. He didn't really have an appetite.

After Dean got himself a mug, he returned to his spot next to Sam's bed. They sat there in silence for a while. Dean was trying to make things feel normal for Sam's sake. Sam was wishing he could be normal for Dean's sake. It was a mutually complicated situation.

"Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam looked up at him. "Yeah?" He replied softly, a knot forming in his gut. He could sense where this was going.

"I..-" there was a long pause. "When did he start... Doing that to you?"

Sam began to shake. Of fear, of apprehension, reluctance, guilt, dread_. Especially dread._

"Uh..." Sam started, his voice sounding notably frail. "I was... 18..." He lied. Maybe if he stretched the truth, it wouldn't be so bad.

There was a pause. Dean was staring at Sam, observing his face, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to lie to me, Sammy. It won't change anything. You can tell me the truth." He stopped, and then repeated his question. "When did he start to abuse you?"

The word abuse didn't sit right with Sam. That's not really what this was. It was awful, miserable, but not abuse. He deserved it. It wasn't _abuse_.

Sam thought about what Dean said. _'It won't change anything.'_ What did that mean? Change their relationship? Yeah, right. He was even counting on that one. Change the way Dean thinks of him? Well, maybe not, but that really wasn't the issue. Sam knew what he was. Possibly it was how Dean thought of John. Yes. Yes, that could be it. If it isn't going to change Dean's opinion on their father, then it felt safer to reveal things. It felt... Reassuring.

"I was 14... When he... Told me the truth..." Sam said quietly.

"The _truth_?" Dean asked, face contorted in concern.

"About what I did... what I am..." Sam explained, quietly fearing this situation.

Dean's face gave the expression of exasperated worry. "Sammy... Whatever he told you... I can assure you isn't true." Dean insisted.

"Why would he lie about something like that, Dean?" Sam asked, pouting a little bit.

"Be-...because..." Dean cursed himself for not being able to think of any good reason for John to lie to Sam the way he did. "That's just it," dean said, expression growing serious, "there is no reason, that's why he's so-...so..." Dean searched for a word to fit the way he thought about their 'father'. When he couldn't, he just snarled to the idea of him.

Sam wasn't convinced. His eyes went downcast and he shrugged. The room went quiet. He gulped, then began to speak. "The night... That night... it all happened so fast. What he said, what he told me had me hating myself... And when he..." Sam choked a little, but continued, "when he touched me, when he..." Tears were starting to drip down Sam's cheeks "_raped me_... I wasn't surprised." Sam looked up at Dean with tearful eyes, "why wasn't I surprised?" He whispered.

"Because I deserved it!" He ground out. "That's why, Dean!" Sam was shouting now, obviously trying to get his point across and the truth through Dean's god damn thick skull. He'd snapped. "For years, he did this to me.. And I didn't like, but I deserved it, God dammit!"

Dean was trying to protest, but he was continually over-powered by Sam's yells.

His ranting of self-hatred was dying down in volume and soon the screams were converted into speech, but Dean couldn't tell if it was to him, or to Sam himself. Possibly both. "I didn't want it..." Sam growled. "I-I didn't like it, I didn't want to like it..." He was holding his hands to the area that he did when he was on the ground being asked if he were raped last night... Hands over himself to cover up his... _Mess_.

Dean had been crying since Sam started his rant, but that struck a nerve. "Oh, no, Sammy..." Dean sobbed, lightly grasping Sam's forearms. He pulled Sam into his embrace and cried heavily. There was so much to process, so much he couldn't process. It was... Killing him.

To be honest, there was only one thing Dean was absolutely sure of. John was going to die. Slowly. And Dean would personally make sure he would burn in hell for the rest of eternity. What he wouldn't give to see that...

"I'm sorry..." Sam cried. He was so broken. So sensitive. Yet so strong. So strong for putting up with this for years.

"You have NOTHING to be sorry about!" Dean said firmly. "_I'm_ sorry, Sammy. I should have been there. I should have been there to protect you. I'm so sorry, _baby brother_..."

Sam drew back from the embrace and looked at Dean's face. He shook his head at his statement. Dean shouldn't be sorry. Everything was so out of wack.

It shouldn't be happening like this. Not like this. How could Sam do this to Dean. John was right. He really was a _monster_.

**(A/N) I know, I know. SAD. Like I said, a hard chap to write. At least Dean's supporting, right? Oh, and don't worry. John WILL DIE. I will make that happen. There's NO WAY he's getting away alive, just like there's no way Dean would ever let him get away. SOOO. ANYWAY... THANKS MUCH FOR READING, FRIENDS! I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can! **


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N) alright, my sincerest apologies to the lack of updates. I have started another fic, for those of you who may not know, and I have been super preoccupied with it as well as some new ideas for a Humor fic. I've been working and doing other things instead of writing (ha, like, I don't know, sleeping at night?) and it has distracted me from this little guy. Okay, so I finished this chap around an hour ago and I have NO IDEA where to go from here. Please please please please PLEASE comment some suggestions of what you want to happen next. I will write whatever you have in mind. I am so lost as to what to do after this chapter. Speaking of this chapter, I'm just gonna tell you right now. It is BRUTAL. I might squick you out. I am an awful person. There are sexual situations that are depressing and down-right disturbing. BE WARNED. **

**Alright, on with the story. **

**Thank you so much for reading. ENJOY CHAPTER 6!**

Later that day, the two brothers had repaired and collected themselves as best as they could. They weren't exactly sure what to do. Dean did have one idea. Take it easy for the day. Relax. No work. And, overall, make Sam feel as normal as possible.

He decided they were gonna watch a movie in bed. Dean had to prove that he still loves Sam, so he had to be near him.

"Hey, Sammy, how bout we get in bed and watch a movie?" Dean asked to Sam, who had his back turned, looking like he was staring out the window. There was no response. "Sammy?" He asked. Still no response. "Sam?!" He said, a little louder. Sam looked like he heard him that time. "Get in the bed, Sam, Come on."

Sam visibly stiffened. His head dropped and he moved hesitantly. Then, Dean saw him unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his shaking body.

"Sammy!" He cried, lunging towards his baby brother. When Sam turned, Dean was shocked. There were tears running down Sam's face but he looked surprised. And... Confused.  
"Sammy, what are you doing?" He asked, voice high pitched.

"I..." Sam looked at Deans face, then what was in his hand. He studied the DVD of Rocky 3 that Dean held and then the tv. Then to the bed. "You're not gonna..." He started, embarrassment coloring his cheeks bright pink.

"Sammy..." He whined his brother's name. "I would never do that to you. I wanted to watch a movie in bed. Do you want to do that with me?"

Sam looked at Dean, then nodded. "Uh..." He then pulled up his pants, looking at the floor in shame. He had COMPLETELY misread the situation.

After that, Dean lead him to the bed, still fairly shocked, and they set up the showing of Rocky 3 in the DVD player. The pair began to relax in Sam's bed and watched the movie in peace.

The rest of the day was peaceful. But, that was just the day. At around 7:00 at night, there was a knock at the door. Sam was asleep on the bed, for they had watched movies all day and laid around. It was great. But that became short-lived.

When Dean heard the knock on the door, he got up, sure of who it was, and grabbed his shotgun. Just to be sure, he looked through the peephole. And, sure enough, there stood John, looking as smug and nonchalant as ever. This infuriated Dean.

When he opened the door to the motel room for John, the shotgun wasn't far behind it, coming up to point directly at his sorry ass. When the door was fully opened, John stared at the gun, then the look on Dean's face.

"Son, what the hell?" He asked as if he had no idea as to what this could be about.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO SAMMY!" He yelled quietly, not really wanting to wake Sam up but letting his rage show.

John's face was morphed from what Dean knew of him, to what Sam knew of him. Or so Dean guessed. His eyes went narrow and his face was dark while a hint of an evil smile played on his lips. "Oh, do you now?" He said simply. Dean cocked the gun, ready to shoot him in the head at any moment. He didn't even notice when tears streamed down his face. "Mm, mm, mm..." John tutted "haven't you remembered anything I've taught you?" Dean looked confused, but held his stand. "You never keep your gun in your attacker's reach." John explained, and in one quick motion, the shotgun was out of Dean's hand and into John's. He spun the gun around so that the butt was facing Dean, and he hit him in the face, knocking him out cold. With Dean's unconscious body on the floor, he looked over at Sam, then back to his oldest. John had an idea...

*******

When Dean came to, the first thing he saw was Sam's face, which was wakeful... As well as something else...

When he remembered what had happened, he suddenly noticed the throbbing ache of his head... Then John.

He didn't see John at first, but it was difficult not noticing him once he saw the knife that was held closely to Sam's throat...

Dean's eyes shot across the room, and he stared at John glaring yet smiling face. His anger grew to unimaginably large levels. He was going to shoot up and attack him. Choke him out with his bare hands. Beat him up so hard he would be unrecognizable.

He was going to do all of those things, and he tried. God dammit, HE TRIED! But his arms and legs were bound to a sturdy chair. Tightly. Dean growled in frustration.  
"Get away from him!" He screamed.

Sam stared at Dean through tear-glazed eyes and mouthed the words 'I'm sorry'.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted.

The eldest Winchester just ignored Dean and his exclamations. "So, Dean. I heard you except what he is, what he did to your mom, what he did to us.. Is that right, son?" John asked Dean calmly, running his hand through Sam's hair as Sam cried silently in his grip.

"Don't you touch him, I will KILL YOU, You FUCKING BASTARD!"

John pressed the knife into Sam's flesh, making small streams of blood fall down from it. "Try to help Sam and he dies." John said grimly. This made Dean shut his mouth, but his eyes surely said enough. "Answer the question, Dean."

"Of course I don't blame him! He did nothing wrong and you punished and you raped him and you are going to rot in hell, you disgusting son of a bitch!" Dean screamed, unable to contain his anger.

"But he killed your mother. He killed his own mother. He provoked that demon. He tore this family apart." John insisted.

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking liar!"

"But its true." John laughed. Sam began to sob in his captivity.

"Sammy, don't listen to him! He's a LIAR!" Dean told Sam, trying to get through to him.

John's hand that wasn't holding the knife crept up to Sam's pants waistline and dipped.

"Let him go!" Dean demanded. "STOP! Don't touch him!" Dean's eyes were leaking tears. "SAMMY!"

"I'm sorry, Dean..." Sam sobbed. He knew what was going to happen. He knew what John was going to do to him. And he knew he was going to make Dean watch.

John worked the button of Sam's jeans open and lowered his zipper as he took off Sam's pants. Dean screamed the whole time, whether it were threats or just incoherent shouts of anger and rage. Tears fell from Sam's eyes rapidly. This was the worst thing that could ever happen to him.

"Take off your boxers..." John hissed.

Sam complied immediately, he didn't want Dean to watch him being hit.

When Sam's boxers dropped, John instantly began touching him, looking Dean in the eyes. Meanwhile, Dean was red in the face, yelling so hard he thought he would burst. He repeated 'NO' over and over again, but it wasn't going to stop anything.

Sam had his eyes shut tight, but he knew he was responding. He knew he was liking it. And he knew Dean knew that, too.

"Please..." Sam begged.

"Please what?" John growled.

"Please... Stop. Please..." Sam cried.

John's hand began working Sam fiercely, and Sam groaned.

Dean couldn't believe any of it. He couldn't believe his eyes. He was sobbing so hard but his rage never dwindled. If anything, it got stronger and stronger by the second.

"You see, Dean? Your precious little Sammy likes this." John beamed.

"NO! You're MAKING HIM!" Dean screamed louder than he could ever remember. "Sammy!" He cried, almost pleadingly, "Don't you dare listen to this asshole!"

Sam looked Dean in the eyes. It was impossible to look anywhere else but in the inside of his own eyelids when his eyes shut tight and his body convulsed as he unwillingly let loose. He groaned and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"YOU WILL DIE!" Dean shouted at John with all the power he had left.

John grinned at Dean. "Not before this..." He said softly, but loud enough to be heard over Sam's sobbing. What John did next had Dean seeing red. He heard his father's zipper lowering and Dean became animal. He screamed like a guttural monster and, after fierce struggling, the chair was broken apart from underneath him. The armrests snapped before his strength, as did the legs and he didn't hesitate to lunge at the man that was hurting his brother. Luckily, John was taken by surprise and he didn't have time to hurt Sam before Dean was on top of him. Dean shouted and yelled and kicked and punched and everything you could do to harm a person with your own hands. He wouldn't stop until John was dead and bloody.

After several minutes, John's face was a marred mess and he was long passed unconsciousness. But that didn't stop Dean. He went on beating him, even though he knew he couldn't feel it anymore.

Sam was horrified. He couldn't bear to watch this. He didn't think it right, but he should have. After all he's been through, he should at least want him gone. But it was Dean. Dean was doing this. His older brother loved the man like he loved Sam not two days ago, and now he was forced to kill him. To kill his own father, all because of Sam.

He watched as Dean finally came to his senses and slowly began to ween off of the beating. He knew John was unconscious, but he wanted him in pain. He thought of all kinds of things to kill him. Like tying weights on him and throwing him into a reservoir... Alive... And he knew he had to burn his body, so who says they have to kill him first?

Dean's head swam with cruel and dark ideas as to what to do with the piece of shit he once called a father.

These thoughts were put to a stop when he heard Sam calling his name.

"Dean." Sam's voice was shaky, and his face was damp with tears. Dean took one look at his brother's profile and he stopped beating at once. Instead, he ripped the comforter that's was on his bed from its place tucked under the mattress and covered his brother's shaking form. He hugged his brother. He felt he would never let him go again. Not into this bastard's grasp.

"Dean." Sam said again, quieter this time. Dean knew what he was thinking.

"Sammy, I have to. What he..." Dean licked his lips, hesitating, choosing his words carefully. "What he did to you... I have to."

Sam looked Dean in the eyes when he pulled back, knowing he wouldn't be able to change that.

"Sammy? Can you stay here alone while I take care of this?" Dean asked reluctantly. He didn't want to leave his brother, but he couldn't take him along, and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave John here.

Sam shed a silent tear, but nodded nevertheless. Dean wiped away the tear and grabbed at the back of Sam's head to plant a kiss on his forehead. When he drew back, dean spoke "I'll be back real soon, I promise." Dean said lovingly, even though the situation he was going to commit didn't call for it. And with that, Dean left, dragging John's body with him.

***

Dean had been driving for a half an hour before he had found a place suffice for the deed. It was brutal, and John was awake, but in the end, John was left with a bullet in his head, and was burned to ashes.

***

When Dean reached back to the motel, he opened the door, expecting to see his little brother. His suspicions were concluded when he noticed the heap of blankets in the middle of the floor with a small, shaggy head of hair sticking out.

Dean was slightly shocked. Sam looked as if he hadn't moved an inch since Dean left. He was in the same spot.

"Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam looked at his brother, who was still in the doorway, and burst into tears.

Dean sped down to him and held him close, looking him in the eyes. "Hey, Sammy, sh... It's okay...hey, It's okay, baby brother."

"No, Dean. I-it's not okay... Y-you killed d-dad..b-Because a' me..." Sam gasped in between cries.

"Sammy, he deserv-" dean started.

"No. You don't un-understand." Sam whined. "I don't understand how you don't under-stand. You saw it happen! You saw what I did..."

Dean stared, horrified "Sam... Are you talking about how you..." The look Sam gave him answered him.. "Oh, no, Sammy... It's not your fault. You didn't do that... I know you didn't like it. It's just the body's reaction... You didn't do it cos you liked it. Trust me, Sammy, I understand."

Sam stared. This was all too confusing. His brain was wired I'm such a different way than this. To think like this... He didn't know right from wrong.

Sam ran his hands through his hair, actively wiping the tears from his face. "Dean." Sam pleaded.

Dean looked up at his baby brother. "Yeah, kiddo?" Dean said, voice cracking in emotion.

"Can we not talk about this? About what happened...?" Sam asked, not wanting to meet his brothers eyes.

Dean huffed out a breath, more tears spilling from his eyes. "Come with me, Sammy." Dean said, hoping to avoid the request.

Dean lead Sam to the bed, letting him lay down as he climbed in next to him. Dean laid next to his baby brother, His arms cradling him, lulling him to sleep. Dean had shut off the lights, so the room was fit to slumber in.

"Forget it happened, Dean." Sam insisted. "Please."

After a few minutes, the brothers were both asleep, safely secure and being treated for a well deserved rest.

**(A/N) I scare myself... POOR BABY! UGH, I am such a freaking SADIST! This chapter broke me. I apologize for my writing, I really do. But, hey, if your reading this, you might be as sick as me! That is so not an insult... Just saying. LETS BE SICK TOGETHER! Now, like I said before in the beginning of the chapter, I really really really really REALLY want ideas for what to do next. I haven't a clue. SO, if you have an idea, PLEASE review and tell me it. I am open to anything, just PLEASE. I really need help! THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR READING ME. PLEEEEEEEASE REVIEW! I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. The next chapter will be up as soon as I get some ideas flowing. Til then!**


	7. Chapter 7

**(A/N) Hey, everyone. I'm really sorry that I've been kinda neglecting this story. I don't have any excuse other than I've been writing my other story, and working on a completely different story. Such various conflicts have distracted me from Hell against the Heart, like Dean in Kicking the Broken and my new ideas for some fics. It's been hard to concentrate. But I digress, this Author's notes is about THIS story.**

**I have been getting some really great reviews. Mind you, this chapter is short, but I took an idea because I thought having a new conflict would make me get into this one again. Oh, yes, because that's all Sammy and Deanie need, is yet another conflict. What I fan-freggin-tastic idea. I joke. I think this will upset and anger some of you, and it will DEFINITELY make me write more. **

**I would like to thank all my gorgeous readers. And my bombastic reviewers, honey! In all seriousness, I do love you guys.**

**Alright, I don't want to ramble, so I present to you, chapter 7! **

When Dean woke up that morning, he was still lying beside his sleeping brother, his arms wrapped around him protectively. He wouldn't let go. An entire swat team wouldn't be able to pry his brother from his grasp.

It was an hour and a half later when Dean felt Sam shift, and he watched as his brother slowly woke up, almost uncomfortably, when he wriggled as he became aware of another presence.

Sam slowly flinched away from Dean's embrace, and he turned in the bed to face his brother, actively edging away.

"Dean... It's okay, I'll be fine. This isn't necessary..." Sam said, but his voice was weak.

Dean stared at his brother. "Sammy, but... What happened last ni-"

"you said you would forget it happened." Sam said accusingly.

Technically, that wasn't true. Dean had never SAID he would forget it, but he could tell that Sam wanted it gone. He could see the painful memories asking to be pushed away and locked up.

Dean sighed. "Sam, this is serious. You can take some comfort."

"I don't need any. I want things to be normal between us. Like they were before." Sam explained, "Dean, I want to be _normal_."

Dean's heart sank. "I'm so sorry, Sammy... But things..._ Can't_ be normal anymore. Believe me when I say this, my opinion of you has never and will never change."

Sam stared, pain evident in his gaze. "I...just want..." Sam let out a shaky breath. "I just wish you... Never found out. I was okay... This is-" he couldn't finish. It hurt too much.

Dean was shocked. "Don't say that," He pleaded, "I can't hear that. You weren't okay. Nothing about that was okay."

"It-it was..." Sam choked.

Dean gave him an encouraging look. "What, Sam?"

"It was... It was _my_ normal, okay?" Sam's voice sounded pained, and exasperated. He was tired, oh so very tired. Of everything.

"_Your_ normal?" Dean asked softly.

Sam sprung up from the bed, "Yes, _my_ normal! Other kids' normals were having good grades and getting girlfriends and making good friends. Staying in one place. Living your life!" He yelled. "Not getting treated like nothing and being a worthless _sex toy_! Not being fucked into submission by _your own father_, trying not to cry _too_ loud, or you'll wake your big brother!" Sam was saying things without thinking, every word spilling out of his mouth and every tear spilling out of his eyes. "Not living your life as a... A_ whore_!" He spat.

Sam realized it. _He was a whore_. A dirty, worthless _whore_. Used goods. His value had been stripped from him a long time ago.

And now, as his secret was out, he couldn't manage. Couldn't live with it.

He wished so desperately that he was dead. Wished Dean would kill him, like he'd thought he might.

He wanted to be no more.

And he knew how to handle it.

Sam spun around frantically, running to Dean's duffle and searching through it.

"Sammy?" Dean said, alarmed. He was so bewildered by what his baby brother said, and growing more so.

Sam ignored his brother, even while shuffling through _his_ bag. Moments later, Sam found the cold, heavy piece of metal and pulled it out, turning to face Dean, who had gotten up as well. He was standing there in front of Sam, the look of utter horror on his face.

Sam shoved the object in his hands to Dean, placing it in his big brothers arms.

Dean stared fixedly into Sam's desperate gaze. He felt Sammy wrap his fingers around the all-too-familiar object. But he wouldn't look down. He was mesmerized.

"Dean..." Sam tried, but Dean didn't look anywhere different. "De..." He sobbed, and that made his older brother flinch as if he were smacked in the face, his head finally snapping to look at what Sam placed in his grasp.

It was his gun.

A 45. pistol that he had picked up two years before. Actually, it was something Sam gave him. Bought for him, a long time ago for his birthday. He had been using it everyday since then.

Why did Sam give it to him? Why did...?

"Please, De..." Sam begged, adjusting it upright and pointed at...

Pointed at himself.

At _himself_, with Dean holding the gun, and Sam was pushing close to his chest, and...

Sam wanted Dean to shoot him. He was begging his older brother to pull the trigger, and _end his life_. Asking Dean to take his life for him.

Dean yanked the gun back as soon as he registered the act in its entirety. "No!" He shrieked.

"De!" Sam kept calling him that. Kept calling him the name that he used when he was sick or hurt or upset. When Sam was half asleep and in Dean's arms, dozing off. What Sammy called him from since he could speak, until he was 8 years old. When he was crying out to him, crying in his arms, screaming in the middle of the night after waking up from a nightmare. It was always 'De! De! De!'

Sam pulled the gun back to its previous place with a desperate strength. "I'm begging you, _big brother_. Please._ Please_, De."

There he was again. Calling him that name. It hurt so much. It was the most painful thing Dean had ever experienced.

"Sammy." Dean sobbed. "Never. I would never, ever do this. Stop it, baby brother. _Stop it_, Sam!"

Sam ignored his brother. He was fed up. On that account, he snatched the gun from Dean's hands, and set it up in his own. He pointed it towards himself and squinted his eyes tight.

"SAM!" Dean screamed, lunging toward him.

All that could be heard next was the click that signaled Sam had pulled the trigger.

**I apologize for what seems to be my most devastating cliff-hanger...ever. Seriously, I'm sorry. You oughta know that the next chapter will be up soon.**

**...BUT...if you want to encourage me, hows about reviewing! I love reviews. I really, really do. I look forward to seeing my review count add as time progresses. Don't be shy as to telling me what you think. You can condemn me for this chapter, if you feel it necessary! **

**I love all my gorgeous lovelies who read my stuuff. There will be more up soon.**

**CHAO!**


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